


Recharging Spock's Batteries

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Weird But Beautiful [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Banter, Bickering, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Exhaustion, Explicit Language, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Intimate touching, M/M, Old Married Couple, Power of Love, Rejuvenation, Suggestive Images, Sweet, Touching, Unconscious Humor, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:53:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24225388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: Spock works overtime and comes home exhausted.  After some probing soul-searching, he seeks the comfort of McCoy's arms.Spock has an emotional crisis unlike most people's.  Will the guy never cut himself any slack?!  (And, yes, he will have to have that idiom explained, if you will, please, Dr. McCoy.)
Relationships: Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock
Series: Weird But Beautiful [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761436
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46
Collections: Star Trek





	Recharging Spock's Batteries

Spock eased into the shadowy quarters he shared with Leonard McCoy. It was very late and Spock was not only tired, but exhausted. It had been a very intense, nerve-wracking day, not only physically but mentally. He had known that the project he was working on in the laboratory would be lasting into the small hours, so he had told McCoy to go on to bed without him. After all, McCoy had to work a shift first thing in the morning, and Spock did not. 

That was one thing nice about getting home so late. He would be excused from working tomorrow. It had been dire for his results to be reached as soon as possible so that Engineering could proceed with the recommendations of his findings. It was such, though, that his results would not have to be cleared through Kirk. The Captain would have been awakened and notified only unless Spock's results would've differed from what had been supposed that they would be. Spock would, of course, report the results of his research in bone-grinding points and ad nauseum to Kirk tomorrow. But it would be just a matter of formality then and done only so that the record would read correctly in excruciating detail.

It was a specialty of Spock's to be exact in all areas, and he relished doing so. At several times during his interview with Kirk, Kirk's eyes might indeed appear to glaze over and even to become fixed, but nothing would deter Spock in performing his duty as he saw fit. Kirk would receive Spock's report in full, because Spock could not do his duty any other way.

His report to Kirk would come very late during their regular shift. Kirk would probably need a swift walk around the Enterprise afterward or a quick dip in the ship's pool to revive. But Spock would be satisfied that he had served his captain and his ship well. Then it would be an enjoyable evening as usual to be followed the next morning by his regular shift.

In the meanwhile, Spock was on sabbatical until the day after next. And he suddenly realized that he would not know what to do with himself stretching ahead of him.

It was such a rare occasion that Spock took some time off that he really did not know what to do with it. He much preferred doing a normal shift and having the evening free as usual to spend with McCoy, Kirk, and their other friends. He supposed he could meditate and read. Those were always profitable activities for him and revitalized him.

But so would being with his friends. But his friends would be busy during the day, especially when he needed to be distracted. Maybe he should have saved some of the lab project until tomorrow.

But then he remembered that the project couldn't have been postponed. Oh, bother! he chided himself. You're starting to sound like an old woman whose schedule has been disrupted! Whatever happened to being flexible?! Whatever happened to being carefree?! Whatever happened to being spontaneous?!

He arched an eyebrow. He was starting to sound like McCoy. And what did that indicate? That if McCoy wasn't around to rag him about something or other, he would take up the goading himself and dump a lot of angst and guilt on himself just so things would seem normal to himself?! What the hell did THAT indicate?!

Oh, bother, he really was starting to sound like McCoy, he thought with a frown. Now he was even beginning to use cuss words like McCoy would do.

But back to his original self-searching question of why he gotten so anal and inflexible with just about anything. He decided that most of his earlier supposed devil-may-care attitude had disappeared with he'd assumed responsibility, not that he'd ever had much of a flippant nature to begin with. And the rest of any irresponsibility in himself had dissolved unnoticed when he had fallen in love and had gotten married. And that was the way it should be, the adult way, the mature way, the responsible way.

How stuffy, he thought with a frown. How prissy.

There was no way that he would ever give up his job or his husband for a return to his flaming youth. But still--

But still there was what to do with those empty hours staring him in the face tomorrow.

He sighed as the logical answer came to him.

Whatever he would do with tomorrow would be tomorrow's problem. He would solve it then. Now he just had to prepare for slumber. Why lose the pleasures of bedtime by stewing about tomorrow?

Thank you, Reason and Logic, for making me understand what is truly important, Spock thought as his world righted itself again.

As Spock headed to the bathroom for a sonic shower, he barely glanced at McCoy sprawled all over the bed. He did note, though, that McCoy was grasping Spock's pillow in a loving manner. Poor guy, Spock thought. McCoy must've had a terrible time going to sleep without Spock's arms around him. Well, Spock could certainly correct that shortage as soon as he had refreshed his body.

He was feeling much more human (what an odd expression, he thought, especially to someone who is only half-human) as he lifted the covers and carefully eased his cleansed body into bed beside McCoy. Just the exercise of washing himself had stimulated him and had made him feel somewhat revitalized. Now he felt like he had prepared his body for its well-deserved period of rest.

"Hmm," McCoy mumbled. "Is that you?"

That question nearly made Spock smile. He felt mischievous and decided to act out of character. "It probably depends on who you were expecting."

McCoy opened one eye. "This can't be my Mr. Spock. He has no visible sense of humor while you, sir, do."

A smile tickled Spock's lips and his dark eyes danced with mirth. "Yet it is I. Now give me my pillow," he cooed softly as if he was plying McCoy with words of love instead of demanding his property.

McCoy sighed and handed off the object in question. "It was a poor substitute for you anyway."

"I would certainly hope so," Spock replied, trying to assess how great his pillow would be in the romance department. Then he decided that he should not really explore that area too closely. He might learn more than he wished about how McCoy had gotten along without him. He might even have to throw out his pillow!

"About time you were dragging your sorry ass home," McCoy muttered as he reached for his own pillow. Then he shot Spock an assessing glance. "You don't look so hot."

"You should have seen me before I showered."

McCoy gave him a critical once-over. "Glad I missed that." He grimaced as he moved a stiff shoulder. "What the hell time is it anyway? I feel like a damn lobster has been sucking on this arm and pinching it for all it was worth."

"No wonder, the way you were grasping my pillow. You probably had your shoulder joint nearly out of its socket."

"Who's the doctor around here?!" McCoy snapped with blazing eyes. "Did I ask for a diagnosis?!"

"I am just saying what seems logical about the reason why your shoulder is hurting."

"I know. I know. I'm just being a crab because you weren't around when I went to bed. You know that I can't sleep unless you're with me," he groused. "Guess I'm a little put out because you've got me spoiled, and I get contrary when I have to do without."

"Sorry I am late, Leonard. Time got away from me."

"You must be tired. You're not only understanding idioms, you're using them." He nestled into his pillow. "Did you get the food I had sent down to you?"

"Yes, I did. And I wish to thank you for being so thoughtful. The color uplifted me as well as the food nourished my depleted body."

McCoy looked pleased and grinned. "So you understood!"

"How could I not? Cream of carrot soup. Yellow. Concord grapes. Purple. Multigrain crackers. Brown. Black olives. Red strawberries. Even green tea. It pleased several of my senses. It was a virtual rainbow on a platter."

"Well, I don't know about that," McCoy answered demurely. "But I thought it would let you think about something else for a minute and rest your mind. You do get rather one-tracked if you're not diverted occasionally."

"And what a diversion! You sent me something that would appeal to my artistic nature. You do have the eye of an artist after all, Leonard."

The high praise flustered McCoy. "It was just some food I threw together down in the mess hall. Did you remember that tomorrow is laundry day on the Enterprise?" he asked, changing the subject to a vital domestic chore that needed to be done. "Are your clothes all together to be gathered?"

"Now, Leonard, that is the sort of thing that I generally ask you. Laundry mornings can be intriguing to watch. Sometimes you act like a vacuum cleaner as you run around our quarters gathering your skivvies from the oddest corners. Your underclothing certainly leads a more interesting life than mine does. It goes on such adventuresome side trips."

"That's because I've got a Vulcan sex-fiend who is generally pawing mine off me," McCoy mumbled. "I'm not the only one in this bed who is responsible for the direction that some of my clothing takes after it leaves my body."

"I have needs, Leonard," Spock admitted sheepishly.

"Don't I know it! Now let me go back to sleep!" he said as he bounced on the bed and pulled himself into a determined knot. "SOME people have to work tomorrow!"

But Spock was not fooled by McCoy's antics. He smiled indulgently as he reached for McCoy to cuddle with him.

"Don't go getting any funny ideas," McCoy grumbled. "My alarm will be going off mighty early. I gotta look better than a hoot owl caught in a hailstorm, even if SOME people don't mind if they do."

"Stop making such a fuss and let me hold you the way I wish." Spock pulled McCoy toward him so that he was spooning him.

"Just as long as that's where you stop for awhile," McCoy continued to grumble as he felt Spock's arms going around his waist. And in the same motion, Spock's hands began to dip downward on McCoy's torso as was Spock's custom and right. Did Leonard Horatio McCoy know his Vulcan, or what?! That green guy could be such a lusty fellow!

"Just keep those wandering hands to yourself," McCoy demanded primly. "My junk is the same as it was the last time you checked, unless it's a little more tired. Just take my word for it. No one gets to touch my family jewels except you. Now leave me alone. I need to get my beauty sleep."

"So do I," Spock countered. "And I will get it better if your body is against mine."

"Now you're talking," McCoy agreed as he rubbed his face into his pillow, wiggled his butt against Spock's torso just to remind him that paradise was still there but closed for the night, and closed his eyes.

Spock closed his eyes in contentment, too. He was still tired, but no longer exhausted. Just being around McCoy was recharging his batteries nicely.

Maybe they might awaken before McCoy needed to go on shift. Maybe they could have morning sex before McCoy had to leave. Maybe they could even take a shower together.

Maybe McCoy could even be a few minutes late for work.

Or longer.

With those happy thoughts, Spock smiled and pulled McCoy tightly against himself. McCoy grumbled in his sleep, but hugged him back.

Tomorrow was only a few hours away. And sometimes they awakened before the alarm clock rang.

The prospects were getting better all the time for a happy tomorrow!

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of Star Trek, its characters, and/or its story lines.


End file.
